


my heart beats for you

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-26
Updated: 2007-06-26
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam and Dean come to some startling realizations...with some help of course! Somewhat AU?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: This is pure insanity. I swear. Okay, ya'll know how you've always watched the show and there have been those moments where ya'll are yelling at teh screen because, duh!, why aren't they kissing?! Lol okay well that's kind of where this came from. Julie is us, my friends. She's the fangirl in all of us that constantly yells at the T.V. in the desperate hopes that the boys will come to their senses and that someone will wind up with a tongue down their throat. And no, not from the demon chick. :P So there it is. This little story stemmed from the insane fangirl within and thus Julie was born. Review, tell me I suck. Whatever. So long as its honest and real! And of course as always I thank my lovely beta, [Miss Cinnamon](http://samdean.archive.nu/viewuser.php?action=favauth&uid=756), who puts up with my insane, OCD behind despite everything.  


* * *

Sam had spent his whole life watching Dean; it was only natural when his older brother was always watching him. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of them to keep watching each other through it all. So when the day came that Sam realized his watching was more, he wasn’t as surprised or as disgusted as he probably should have been.

 

There had been plenty of signs along the way. The light touches and occasional petting when they were lying in front of the motel T.V., legs or arms intertwined, some part of them always touching. It should have been obvious that they were closer than close and that their relationship was headed into dangerous territory. But Sam had been oblivious to it all, writing off his feelings and unnatural thoughts as raging hormones or some kind of trick his mind was playing on him. He just never thought about it, he had always pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind to make room for whatever crisis they were dealing with at that moment. He didn’t have time for hallucinations.

 

Sam kicked the motel door shut behind him and tossed his backpack across the room, grumbling all the while about having to do the laundry two weeks in a row. That’s what he got for doubting Dean and his ability to get any girl to look his way. Sam had thought for sure that Celeste had more sense than to fall for a guy like Dean’s charms, even knowing how he was- which she totally did, because she’d just been griping about Sam’s brother not two days ago. Then Dean goes and gives her his patented smirk, a soft, lazy drawl about God knows what and suddenly she’s got her arms wrapped around Dean’s neck and she’s doing anything he says.

 

Pathetic.

 

Even more pathetic was that Sam couldn’t blame her and that he was dumb enough to believe he’d win this bet.

 

Throwing open his duffel he considered throwing something red in with Dean’s whites just to teach his brother a friendly lesson about using his charms for something as trivial as a bet. Sam was ashamed with himself, though, for actually agreeing to the bet in the first place and tormenting Dean wasn’t going to change what either of them had done. Sam knew better than to play with a girl’s affections, especially when it came to using Dean and his ungodly skills. Still, for some reason the surety in Dean’s taunts had gotten to him and he’d agreed. Losing this bet served him right, playing with Celeste like that.

 

Finished with pulling out his own clothes, he glanced around the room for Dean’s duffel. He spotted it across the room, kicked beneath the small table in what passed for a kitchen in the latest rundown motel. Sam accepted his fate out of guilt and just prayed that he wouldn’t find anything _disturbing_ in Dean’s bag as he hefted it on to the table and unzipped it. It wouldn’t be unlike Dean to throw something in there just to freak him out. Sam suspected that Dean got a perverse thrill out of it.

 

Instead his fingers closed around soft, glossed paper. His brows drew together in curiosity and he opened the bag wider to see what he’d blindly come across. Sam’s mouth formed a small ‘oh’ of surprise as he realized what he’d found. Photos. Dean actually had photos tucked away in his duffel bag.

 

Sam grinned widely, possibility sinking in. Dean would never leave something like that in his duffel for Sam to find. He must have forgotten about them. Sam was nearly ready to dance with joy at his realization. Maybe getting stuck with laundry duty two weeks in a row wasn’t so bad after all. Not if it gave him something to hold over Dean for the next few days, maybe even weeks if the photos were that good.

 

Impatient and overly excited at the prospect of one upping Dean, Sam pulled out the small stack of photos. There were at least ten-maybe fifteen. Oh, this was just too good. Dad never let them keep pictures, it was too dangerous in their line of work. The only one Dad had ever kept was one of the three of them, taken long before Sam could remember.

 

His grin faltered and his breath caught in his throat at the face that grinned up at him, suddenly not so worried with what he could torment Dean next with. It was a picture of Dean-and Sam. His brother was grinning broadly at the lens, one arm wrapped around Sam in a headlock. His mouth parted, caught between a grin and a laugh, his green eyes sparkling intensely. God, even in a photograph his brother could stop his breathing.

 

Sam’s own face was tilted up at Dean’s, hidden behind dark brown hair. One arm was wrapped tightly around Dean’s waist and the other rested low on Dean’s stomach as he struggled against his brother’s hold. They were playing around, Sam remembered, joking around on their lunch break at school, Sam teasing Dean about his recent growth spurt that put him a good two inches taller than his older brother. One thing had led to another and the next thing he knew he was being held against Dean’s body in a death grip, Dean’s triumphant laughter ringing in his ears. That had only been a week ago.

 

Curious now, Sam tore his eyes from the first picture and flipped to the next. It was another picture of Dean and Sam, but this one was in the aftermath of their playful fight. Dean was sitting on top of a picnic bench, leaning back, propped up on his elbows with his legs spread to accommodate Sam’s frame. Sam’s arms were draped over Dean’s knees as he leaned back against the table. His face was turned, grinning stupidly at something Dean had said when the camera went off. Dean was staring down at him, one brow raised and a smirk gracing his face. Neither seemed to be aware of the camera. Sam knew he hadn’t been aware of the camera, couldn’t even think of who could have been taking pictures of them. But Dean must have known or he wouldn’t have these pictures now, he wouldn’t have been grinning at the camera in the first place.

 

The next photograph was of Sam and Lucy, the first girl in his history class to say a word to him, books spread out in front of them in the school library. They were supposed to be working on a history report together, instead they were engaged in a paper war that had somehow managed to not only span the length of their table, or the area around them but far into the background of the picture and the bookshelves behind them.

 

Sam flipped through the rest quickly, finding that there were twelve in all and that each picture was of Dean or Sam-more than half of them had the two of them together. And he didn’t remember a single one being taken. His curiosity and amazement suddenly turned to disturbance.

 

Who would be taking pictures of them? And why did Dean have them tucked away in his duffel? Did he have any intention of showing these to Sam or was he going to keep them a secret? Sam didn’t think it wasn’t that big of a deal- it was actually kind of nice to have something solid of them. Just the fact that someone had been taking pictures without his knowledge seriously creeped him out. But if Dean had them and no one had turned up missing then Dean must not be worried about them, maybe….just embarrassed that he was keeping them?

 

Sam crossed over to the bed, staring down at the first picture he had come across. It was one of his favorites he had to admit. Dean’s grin was so blinding-so open and bright. It wasn’t something Sam got to see often and to have it forever immortalized on a glossy sheet of paper took his breath away almost as much as the real thing. He sank down onto the bed, memorizing every line and curve with awestruck nostalgia.

 

Sam’s hands shook, his breathing shallow as he let the full weight of that memory settle over him. That day they’d just been brothers, messing around, always trying to one up each other. And now? Now Sam was staring at that memory and remembering all the things he hadn’t paid a damn bit of attention to at the time. The warmth of Dean’s skin, burning his hand where it rested low on his brother’s stomach. The gentle, but firm hold Dean had on him-in more ways than Sam had ever realized-the way his breath caught whenever Dean smiled like that at him, and more than that, the way his heart skipped a beat whenever Dean was near him. That memory, that had held only good times and laughter now held so much more it made Sam’s head spin and his stomach twist into knots.

 

Before he had a chance to catch his breath, or sort things out enough to think clearly, the motel door swung open and drew Sam’s attention away from the pictures for the first time since he’d found them. Only to find the living, breathing version of those pictures, tossing its keys onto the table. Dean glanced up and grinned at Sam as he shrugged off his jacket, noticing Sam the instant he stepped into the room.

 

“Doing laundry, Sammy?” he teased, smug enjoyment dripping from his voice. Dean tossed his jacket over the back of a nearby chair and kicked the door shut behind him. His green eyes watched Sam curiously, the joy of taunting Sam beginning to fade around the edges the longer Sam took to answer. The corners of his mouth tilted down, caught between a grin and a frown as he weighed the possibilities. Sam’s eyes inexplicably locked on Dean’s mouth and tried to speak before Dean went into full blown dad mode.

 

“Sam?” Dean said a little louder. “You okay?”

 

Well, shit. How okay could he be? Sam was in love with his brother.

 

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and found he still couldn’t speak with that realization rattling around in his head. He nodded helplessly, praying that Dean wouldn’t notice the pictures in his hands. Sam had thought this would be fun, something to hold over his brother when he was being a pain and instead it'd turned out to be _Sam’s_ weakness.

 

Dean frowned. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weirder than usual, man.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam said hoarsely. “I’m fine.” As fine as he could be seeing as he’d just realized he was in love with his older brother. Yeah, Sam was great.

 

"What do you have-” Dean stopped mid-sentence, his mouth forming an ‘oh’ of surprise startlingly similar to Sam’s from only moments before.

 

Sam blushed and jumped to his feet. So much for having something on Dean. Now all he had was a overabundance of questions and emotions. Mostly things he didn’t want to think about himself, and that Dean would only glare in irritated silence at.

 

“Oh, you, uh, you found those, huh?” Dean asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, clearing his throat. “Where’d you get these?”

 

“Julie,” Dean answered all nonchalance as he turned and suddenly found his dirty laundry so much more interesting.

 

Julie? Julie had given these to Dean?

 

Sam had met Julie their first day at Plant High. He had already had it with this school, all day he’d been getting weird looks and he couldn’t figure out why. So he’d kept his head down and done his best to ignore it, which of course had been the cause of all his problems. Keeping his head down made watching where he was going a lot more difficult, and he’d mistakenly run into a tall, dark haired boy-with a short temper.

 

Sam had tried to apologize to the guy but he wouldn’t hear it, apparently being the most popular guy in school, as Sam had found out later, had gone to his head and picking on the new kid was exactly what he needed to boost his idiotic popularity. Now, Sam wasn’t one to fight, though if Dean had been anywhere near him at the time instead of the principal’s office for mouthing off already, things might have been different.

 

As it had been though, Sam was on his own and frowning at the smart mouthed boy in front of him. He was only an inch taller than Sam, but that didn’t seem to bother him at all. He acted like Sam was less than nothing. That probably had something to do with the fact that he outweighed Sam by a good fifty pounds and was more muscle than brain. When Sam didn’t seem to apologize in the right way, or whatever the hell it was he had wanted, he gave up on his smart mouthing and resorted to pounding Sam’s face- or at least trying.

 

Before even Sam had had a chance to react to the boy’s quick fist, a dark haired girl had appeared between them and given him a rough shove backwards. Tim, as she had later identified him as, went flying into the lockers with as much surprise as Sam. She muttered a short, ‘jackass’, before turning to Sam. Smiling brightly, she’d held out her hand. ‘Julie,” she said simply. Sam had stared back at the girl in bewilderment, her grin dimming after thirty seconds of complete silence. She was 5’6, maybe 5’7, with dark hair that just brushed her shoulders and deep brown eyes, she was nothing compared to Tim and yet that hadn‘t stopped her from putting him in his place when he was messing with a clueless stranger.

 

‘Uh, Sam,’ he’d introduced himself awkwardly. He was floored by her interference and her bright smile. She didn’t even seem bothered that Tim was quickly regaining his composure. Julie had thrown one last disgusted glance over her shoulder at Tim and then turned back to Sam, taking his arm. He’d let her, more out of shock and fascination than anything else. She grinned and rolled her eyes at his dumbfounded expression and took his schedule from out of his hands. ‘Wow,’ she said, nodding. ‘You’re in my next class. And the one after that and the one after that, and geez, the one after that. Are you like stalking me or something?’ she’d teased.

 

Sam, being as intelligent as he was, had managed to shake his head no. Apparently Julie was extremely patient because the next thing he knew, he was being dragged off to class and interrogated in the friendliest way possible. Since that day they’d been practically inseparable at school, and once Dean had heard what she’d done for Sam, he’d been pretty okay with her hanging around them all the time. Maybe even liked her a little bit, though he doubted his brother would ever admit to it. It seemed Julie and Dean liked to mess with each other more than anything, which is why he was surprised that Julie had given the pictures to Dean instead of Sam, or when Sam wasn’t around. She’d have had to go out of her way to give them to Dean without him.

 

“Julie?” He just couldn’t get his head around it. When had Julie taken these pictures? Sam didn’t ever remember her with a camera. Let alone around them.

 

“Yeah, they were for her photography class, remember? She thought we might like these copies.”

 

“Oh,” Sam said intelligently. Photography class, right. He remembered her saying something about that now. “When did she give these to you?”

 

“Uh, Tuesday, I think. I forgot all about them.”

 

Dean had forgotten all about them? That was why he’d about turned ten different shades of red when he’d seen them in Sam’s hands? That’s why he wouldn’t even look at Sam anymore, instead finding his dirty clothes that _Sam_ was supposed to be washing more interesting? Okay, yeah. He’d buy that. For now.

 

xXx

 

Shit. Dean should have known better than to let Julie take those pictures. He’d known they were a bad idea in the beginning, Dad’s training kicking in the instant he’d seen the camera, but Sam seemed to really like Julie, trusted her. Though, with Sam that wasn’t a big leap. The kid had too big of a heart for his own good and trusted more people than Dean would ever even give a second thought to. But he had to admit that the idea of having some pictures with his younger brother didn’t completely bother him. Sam, he had hoped, would be thrilled about them. Maybe even give Dean that goofy smile of his when he was too stunned to say anything.

 

That was until he’d seen the pictures. Then he’d realized how big a mistake he’d made. There was a picture in there that had literally ripped his heart out in the best way possible. He was leaning back on a picnic table in the school yard with Sam sitting between his legs, that goofy smile he’d been hoping for directed at him. Now Dean had that smile forever on a piece of glossed paper to remind himself when Sam got into one of his moods. And a permanent reminder of just how fucked he really was.

 

Whenever he looked at it he got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and his heart skipped a beat but it wasn’t until he’d reached another photo of the two of them that he realized what that feeling was. Love. Dean was undeniably in love with his younger brother and that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach was either that or nausea. Probably both.

 

After seeing the two of them sitting side by side, Sam’s forehead resting on Dean’s shoulder, it had been hard to deny it any longer. The rest of the photos of them only reinforced that, hell, any picture with Sam in it reinforced that realization. That was why he’d hidden them in his duffel and stupidly forgotten to hide them elsewhere when Sam had lost the bet over Celeste. Now he was seriously going to pay for it.

 

“Why didn’t you show these to me Tuesday?” Sam asked. “Or were you not going to show me them at all?” His voice was edging on irritation now.

 

“Like I said, I forgot about them. Besides, if Dad sees them he’ll make us burn them.” The first part was a lie, the second wasn’t. Dad _would_ probably make them burn them, or destroy them somehow. If they were lucky Dad would let them keep maybe one, but not all twelve, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to get rid of them. But…could Sam? “You want that?” he asked tentatively.

 

“No!” Sam protested quickly, prompting a grin from Dean. “I mean, we don’t have anything of us except that one picture from when we were kids, and I don’t really remember that. It’s nice to have something I can remember,” Sam said quietly.

 

Dean shut his eyes and nodded, his heart currently lodged in his throat. Yeah, it was nice to have something to remember. Dean could barely remember the picture Sam was talking about being taken, himself. It seemed a lifetime ago that they’d done anything so normal. As much as Dean loved his family and this life, it was nice to have normal when it came to something like this.

 

“You better hide those,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “I meant what I said about Dad. He won’t let us keep those, man. It’s too dangerous.” It was foolish of him to let Sam keep them, even more foolish for him to have let Julie take the pictures and then to have kept them. But he’d snuck back into the school Tuesday night and burned the film, and just couldn’t let go of the copies he had.

 

“Yeah, I know. Should I put them back in your duffel or what?”

 

Dean shrugged and turned to face Sam, confident that his acting skills were strong enough for him to finish this conversation without turning into a sappy bitch. “Doesn’t matter, kiddo. Just hide ‘em good.” He grinned at Sam and patted him on the shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom. “Dad should be home soon, I’m going to shower while you’re doing laundry.”

 

Sam groaned and gave Dean a shove towards the bathroom. “Jerk,” he muttered.

 

Dean laughed and shot Sam one last smirk before disappearing into the bathroom. “Bitch.”

 

He didn’t need to stick around to know that Sam had rolled his eyes and tried with all his might to keep the smile tugging at his mouth from appearing. In the end he’d lose and he’d just roll his eyes at Dean again in resignation. That was as sappy as the Winchesters got.


End file.
